


Let Go

by Verai



Series: Captured Hearts [3]
Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Blow Jobs, D/s, F/M, Gun Violence, Light Angst, No Spoilers, Shameless Smut, Woman on Top, some gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-10
Updated: 2018-12-10
Packaged: 2019-09-15 12:22:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16933176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Verai/pseuds/Verai
Summary: When Arthur promised you he wouldn’t let anyone else catch him, you believed him. But some things aren’t meant to be. Will you save him, or will you walk away?





	Let Go

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, adding that D/s tag because that’s pretty much where their relationship has been heading in my brain. I looked up DD/lg to see if that applies here, and it’s maybe 1% applicable because of the use of the “baby girl” endearment and some caretaking, so if that freaks you out, maybe avoid this story. Anyway, enjoy!

“Those O'Driscolls been around a lot lately.”

 

“Yeah, they been causing trouble two towns over, and now I hear they been seen on the roads nearby.”

 

“Sheriff better do somethin’ about.”

 

“You know he ain't gonna do shit!”

 

Raucous laughter followed, filling the saloon with a warmth and camaraderie you hadn’t felt in a while. You took another sip of your whiskey, letting the burn soothe your tiredness.

 

You thought of the O’Driscolls. You didn't mess with that gang; they were far too big, and their leader was a bit crazy from what you heard. You had tried taking in some O'Driscolls, a long time ago with your father. You both had agreed afterwards that they weren't worth the trouble. Swarmed like flies, and just as annoying.

 

You had traveled west, away from the town with the nice sheriff who wanted to deputize you, away from that abandoned cabin, away from that campsite, away from everything that reminded you of _him_. You ended up in a larger town, but it was nestled in the foot of the mountains and off the beaten path. People here seemed friendly, but only because they didn’t see many travelers, so you were sort of an anomaly. You quickly gained favor with some of the townsfolk, helping out here and there, and no one here thought it was strange for a woman to be doing the kind of work you did; in fact, quite a few women were doing similar things.

 

What a delightfully forward-thinking town, you thought, as you finished your whiskey and left the saloon. Everyone else was drinking, shit-talking the sheriff (who really was a bit useless), and having a grand old time, but you had spent most of the day helping a farmer hunt down a wolf that was preying on his sheep, and you were tired. You made your way to the small cabin you had been staying at for the past couple of weeks. The farmer you were helping let you stay in exchange for help around the farm and whatever hunting or foraging you could bring in, which was plentiful in the mountains above the town.

 

As you walked back, a group of rowdy looking men rounded the corner and started heading towards the saloon. You naturally avoided them, taking to the shadows and quietly staying out of their sight.

 

“I’m tired of guarding that son of a bitch. I can’t believe Ike made us bring him all the way out here.”

 

“He’ll bring in good money alive, but we gots ta wait for Willie to make the arrangements. None of us can just walk into Blackwater, ya know.”

 

“Yeah, yeah. This better be worth it.”

 

“It will! One day, everyone will know the Bollard Twins gang. We’ll take down both the O’Driscolls _and_ the Van der Linde gang, starting with that dumbass Arthur that got himself caught.”

 

Your breath stopped. Slowly so it seemed natural, you walked a wide berth around them, and started heading back to the saloon. Picking a spot nearby where you wouldn’t be noticed, you catnapped, your hat over your face so people thought you were sleeping off the alcohol.

 

You waited for a couple of hours, until you saw them head back out again. Quietly, through the dawn, you followed them. They walked back to their horses outside of town and rode off. You quickly whistled for Trigger, who came galloping within minutes, and headed off after them.

 

***

 

Tracking them was easy for you, as they weren’t even hiding their trail. The problem came when you found their hideout. Three men were ambling around outside, and you didn’t know how many were inside. The cabin, if you could call it that, didn’t look like more than a shed, so you guessed maybe at most another two people were inside. Did they really need that many, guarding one prisoner? Even if it was Arthur, that seemed excessive. And on top of that, there wasn’t any good cover for you to snipe from. If you shot from here, they’d see you in a heartbeat. You slunk back down the hill, wondering what to do. Wait until nightfall? Arthur might be dead by then. Take a chance and snipe anyway? You didn’t particularly want to die.

 

But the thought of Arthur dying squeezed your heart painfully. When had he gotten such a tight hold on you? He was just an outlaw that you've had a couple encounters with. You shouldn't care this much.

 

And yet you longed for his touch, you dreamed of him, and your body sung for him after just one look.

 

You took a deep breath. You scanned the mountainside, hoping that you missed a good ledge or outcropping, but there was nothing. You'd have to just go from here, guns blazing. It ran through your mind that you could just leave him to his fate, but you quickly squashed that thought. It wouldn't feel right.

 

Sighing at yourself, you readied your rifle, made sure your revolver was loaded, and snuck around to the back of the cabin. You purposely shot away from them so they looked at the exploding branch first, then they immediately looked in your direction as you popped one in the head. The other two men started shooting at you, and another man came out of the shed and shouted at them to kill you as he also pulled out his rifle and started taking pot shots at you.

 

You started running, bullets whizzing by you. You were getting grazed like crazy, but you kept shooting, just trying to get any shots. You got one of them in the knee, another one in the elbow. They cried out and held their wounds. The man with the rifle cursed them out and kept firing on you, keeping you pinned down behind a large tree.

 

You counted the bullets. You knew it was a Lancaster rifle, you knew he would max out at 14 shots. When you counted 10, he paused. You came out then and shot a few rounds based on instinct and where the bullets were coming from. He yelled out in pain as you got him in the hand and the shoulder.

 

“Goddamn asshole!” he yelled as he pulled out his revolver with his good hand and shot. One bullet tore through your hair, grazing the point where your neck and shoulder met. Another bullet grazed high on your cheek. You felt blood flow down your shirt from the wound, and you ducked back behind the tree, breathing heavily in shock. Your face stung, and the blood dripped down to your chin.

 

A feral yell echoed in the forest. You heard the sounds of someone being punched to hell, and after a couple of minutes, nothing. You peeked around the tree to see Arthur, half-naked and covered in blood, like a wild man. His wrists looked raw where he had been tied up. His chest and stomach were bruised, clearly beaten while he was trapped here. And he looked pissed off as he stared down at the man who had shot you.

 

Without thinking, your body moving on its own, you slowly started walking towards him, the blood loss making you less careful about your surroundings. He looked up at the sound you made as you stumbled towards him, his wild look making him a frightening sight to behold. But you kept walking, one step in front of the other.

 

“Sweetheart…” he finally said, his eyes softened when he noticed it was you and not another gang member.

 

He ran to you and caught you right before you collapsed.

 

***

 

You woke up in a tent. Not your tent. You tried sitting up, but pain shot through your body and you bit your lip to keep from crying out. You lifted your arms to see them bandaged in multiple places. You slowly sat up this time, gritting your teeth through the pain, and looked under the blanket. Your right leg was bandaged in a couple of places, your left leg only had one graze at your ankle, but you had plenty of bruises from hitting branches and rocks as you were dodging and diving for cover through the fight. Even your side had bandages around your belly, and you reached to your side and poked yourself, wincing. Could’ve been worse, you thought. At least you didn’t get a bullet wound. You tried to stretch, and everything stung.

 

You reached up to your shoulder. Bandages were wrapped around your neck and chest to keep the wound from opening up again. That was probably the worst of your injuries. You had felt the blood just running from your neck and really thought you were done for.

 

You sniffed the blanket. It smelled like Arthur.

 

And then the tent flap opened and you hid yourself under the blanket. You were naked except for the bandages and felt shy, exposed.

 

“Finally awake?”

 

You tried to nod, but just ended up wincing. Moving your neck hurt.

 

“Just stay still, lemme take care of ya,” he said as he moved next to you. In his hand was a bowl of stew. Your mouth watered.

 

“How long did I sleep?”

 

“Most the day. It just got dark.”

 

“Oh,” you said finally, not knowing how to handle this information, nor this situation. You looked at him, really looked at him. He was bandaged up too, and the bruises that you could see were turning an unfortunate shade of blue & black. He sat down and started feeding you quietly, and you accepted his help, since your arms were like lead and honestly, you wanted to just let him take care of you like this. It had been so long since anyone had looked after you in such a kind manner that you nearly cried at the tender care. He didn’t say anything nor made any fuss about it; he just slowly fed you, one bite at a time.

 

After you had eaten your fill, he went back outside to kill the fire and clean up. You lay back down carefully and wrapped the blanket around you, inhaling deeply and feeling a bit embarrassed about doing so. You were exhausted; considering how long you had been up before, and how much you had exerted yourself in the past 24 hours, you quickly fell back asleep, even though you had slept for so long already.

 

***

 

Sometime during the night, you woke to find Arthur sleeping next to you, his broad back to yours, keeping you warm. You blinked, and went back to sleep again, sure it was a dream.

 

***

 

When morning finally peeked through the tent, you felt groggy, but a lot better than before. Your wounds weren’t so bad a day later, and you could move somewhat better, even though you were still sore overall. You got up, threw your clothes on, and got out of the tent.

 

Arthur was gone, as was his horse, but you noticed a piece of paper under his pot of coffee.

 

_Hunting._

 

Short and to the point. You could rest some more and just… stay. But you felt the urge to run away, to hide, to not be here when he came back. The string around your heart felt tighter every minute you stayed. You picked up the piece of paper and scribbled with some charcoal.

 

_Went back._

 

You packed your stuff, got on your horse, and rode back to the cabin on that farmer’s land.

 

***

 

A few days later, you finally felt like yourself again. You had picked up some simple labor here and there, taking it easy on your sore body. No one had questioned your wounds; you made up a tale of falling down a hill to get away from too many wolves, and they believed you. The townspeople knew that hunts went bad sometimes. Wolves were truly a problem around here, as the farmer had asked once again for your help guarding the sheep at night when you had returned.

 

After a third night of no wolves, you stretched and went back to your cabin, admiring the 3AM moonlight. You were itching to leave again, go back to bounty hunting, back to traveling. You were a nomad, and this was the longest you had stayed in a place since your old man passed. You never liked staying in a place for too long; you didn't want to get attached to anything. Attachments caused… complications. And the thing you hated most was complications.

 

You washed up a bit with the small water basin you kept just inside the door before you changed into your simple sleeping shift. It was the girliest thing you owned; it even had a small red ribbon bow in the middle. To be fair, you picked it mostly because it was the least garish sleepwear in the store. It was silky soft and you admit that it was a splurge buy. But you wanted something to sleep in other than your regular clothes.

 

In the middle of the cabin, you twirled about just to feel the dress whirl around your knees. It was short, but it wasn't like it was for public viewing.

 

A strong, steady couple of knocks on the door made you jump. What the hell? The damn farmer better not be asking you to do a double shift. You pulled your coat on over yourself and grabbed your revolver. With your hand on the door handle, you grumbled loudly, “What is it?” You thought you sounded a little bitchy, but you didn't care.

 

“Don't sound too happy there, sweetheart.”

 

You immediately flung open the door without thinking. Arthur was leaning against the door frame, looking smug, probably because you had opened the door so quickly. He looked you up and down; your coat had fallen open, and your hand was still gripping your revolver tightly. He could see part of your night dress with its stupid girly ribbon bow.

 

You didn't even ask how he found you. You didn't exactly hide yourself here, and people knew you. One more reason to leave town.

 

After a brief second of looking at him in disbelief, you slammed the door shut.

 

Or at least you tried to. Arthur caught the door and forced his way into your space. He shut and locked the door behind him, the click sounding so final to your ears. Then he started stalking towards you. You walked back until you stumbled against the table behind you, so you sidestepped around, hit the wall, then took one step to the side. A hand slammed into the wall next to your face.

 

His other hand reached down and slowly took the gun away from you. Bending on one knee, he gently placed it on the ground. Clearly a man who cared about firearms.

 

But now was not the time to admire him. Or was it? He had not shaven in a few days, but otherwise he looked alright. In fact, he looked a bit scruffy but still attractive. The way he was looking at you with hungry eyes made your body tighten as he stood back up, but not before nipping at your stomach on the way back up.

 

“I gave you some time,” he said in a low voice. “But I can't wait any longer.” Reaching for your coat, he slowly slid it off your shoulders. It fell to the ground around your feet, revealing your dress. The fabric was thin, the neckline was a bit low, and his eye darkened with lust when he saw your nipples harden.

 

“You want this too, don'tcha.” It was a statement, one you could not deny. Slowly his hands went for your dress straps. He slid them down until they were off your shoulders as he stepped closer to you. He cupped your breasts and flicked your nipples under the fabric.

 

“Didn't know you owned anything like this,” he murmured.

 

“It's new,” you mumbled.

 

“It's… Nice.” In one quick move he jerked the dress down just enough so he could palm your breasts, his rough hands squeezing you. He bent over and took one of your nipples into his mouth.

 

You gasped and wrapped your arms around his head, running your hands through his hair. He moaned around your nipple, vibrating through you and making you hotter for him. He stood up and crushed you against the wall, taking your mouth, slowly at first, then with a growing need as his hands touched you everywhere.

 

Then as quickly as he began, he stopped and stepped away. You were suddenly cold without his warm body against yours, and you slid down the wall now that he wasn't supporting your weight. You watched as he took a few more steps back and started taking off his coat, suspenders, and shirt. His gun belt hit the floor with a very final thud. This was happening, whether you wanted it or not. And part of you really, really wanted it.

 

He noticed the need in your eyes. “You want this?” he asked, a hint of a smirk on his lips. His hands were hovering over the fly of his pants.

 

“Yes,” you whispered.

 

He grinned, somewhat perversely. He sat in the only chair and beckoned you. “Crawl to me.”

 

You started to. Then you stopped.

 

“Don't think. Just do as I say.”

 

Your mind warred with your body.

 

“Trust me.”

 

It was so hard. So hard to let go of all control. So hard to trust so unconditionally.

 

“Look at me.”

 

You looked up at him.

 

“If you truly don't want somethin’, I won't force it. So please, trust me.”

 

A second passed. Then another. And then you slowly got on your hands and knees and crawled towards him. You were rewarded with a smile that made it oh so worth it.

 

He ran a hand through your hair and you leaned into his touch. Your body warmed; it felt so good just to be in the moment. You reached for his fly and began unbuttoning. He watched you, his breath shaky with need as you pulled out his cock on your own and began licking and sucking happily.

 

A grunt made you look up. He fisted your hair and pulled you off him.

 

“Gettin’ too close, baby girl.”

 

He hushed you softly when you whimpered. He let go of your hair and pulled you up until you were standing, and guided you by your hips until you were astride him. Lifting up your dress, he looked up at you as he slipped a finger into your wet channel. Your hands immediately went to his shoulders for support as he played with you, adding a second and then a third finger, readying you.

 

He hummed agreeably after a bit, and grasped your hips once more.

 

“Guide me in,” he said in a low voice. You reached down and wrapped a hand around his thick cock, stroked him once, and let him pull you down. You gasped as he started pushing into you; even after he had worked his fingers inside you, you were still tight.

 

“Breathe,” Arthur whispered as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled steadily down, down until you were fully sitting in his lap, his shaft deep inside you. Grabbing your ass, he started lifting you up and down, and you held on for dear life. Your hands gripped his arms and his chest, feeling his muscles working as he pumped your body. It was like you weighed nothing at all, and the thought of the strength he possessed shot adrenaline through you, making you hotter.

 

“More,” you moaned, and he chuckled in response. Standing up with you still impaled on his shaft, he sat you on the table and pushed you down. Gripping your hips, he lifted you slightly off the table and drove into you with all his strength. The table rocked as he took you, his eyes possessing an almost demon glow in the lantern light.

 

In the privacy of this cabin, you screamed and moaned. You could feel yourself letting go of all your hang-ups. Your body loosened up, becoming Arthur’s pliable play thing.

 

He sensed the change in you. “That’s it girl, let go, let me take care of you,” he said as he flipped you over and entered you from behind. Without giving you a chance to breathe, he fucked you roughly, and you begged for more.

 

“Yes, use me!”

 

“Gladly, sweetheart,” he growled as he drove into you harder. “Tell me more.”

 

Your words were vulgar, dirty, lewd. And you couldn’t stop them from coming from your mouth. He slapped your ass and you reveled in the sting of it, pushing your hips out to meet his thrusts with pure need. You were being defiled, and you loved it.

 

Then you felt a finger caress your rear opening, and you froze. Your body immediately tensed up. He caressed you again, and you wouldn’t, couldn’t relax.

 

“No,” you said, definitively.

 

After a second, he stroked your hair comfortingly. “Alright,” he said softly. He slowly started stroking your clit again to get you hot once more. It didn’t take long for you to melt under his touch, and the trust you had for him grew.

 

Then he grabbed your waist and pulled out of you. He sat back down in the chair, taking you backwards with him. He leaned back and pulled you on top of him, your back on his chest, your legs spread around his. You leaned your head back against his shoulder and he nibbled your earlobe. You moaned as he violently shoved his cock back inside you.

 

“Ride me. Show me what you want,” he commanded.

 

It was hard to think past the soft haze of desire, but your body moved of its own accord, and your breathing hitched when one hand went to your clit and the other fondled your breasts. He caressed you everywhere, your whole body singing for his as you moved up and down on him, your heartbeat thundering in your ears as you got closer to the edge.

 

“Gonna shoot my spend all over your pretty face,” he whispered in your ear, and that mental image pushed you over your limits as you came hard, crying out his name as you shook with pleasure.

 

As the edge wore off, he pushed you down, grabbed you by the neck, and pulled you up to his still erect cock. He stroked his cock a few times and came on your face, his cum dripping down your chin to your breasts.

 

You felt dirty and used. You should’ve been upset, but you were feeling satisfied, almost unnaturally so. You had a blanket of contentment around your mind and it wouldn’t go away.

 

Arthur disappeared for a moment to grab the wash cloth next to the water basin, came back, went on one knee next to you and cleaned you up. You leaned back against his other knee and hummed happily. He tenderly walked you to bed, and you could feel him spooning you as you quickly fell asleep.

 

***

 

It was late morning when you awoke. Arthur’s arms were wrapped around you, and your legs were intertwined with his.

 

You immediately remembered what happened last night and burned with an inner shame. You had let loose, begged him for terrible things that only he could do to you, and at the end, he had finished on you like a dollar whore. You had done things that were so separate from who you wanted to be: an ace hunter, a great sniper, calm and collected in all things.

 

Quietly & slowly, you tried to get out of bed without waking Arthur. You had to leave, you had to ride on the open road and feel the wind on your face and just get out-

 

Arthur’s arms tightened around you. It was like being wrapped in steel; there was no getting out.

 

“Goin’ somewhere?”

 

“I… I need to go.”

 

He let go. “If you’re not back in 5 minutes, I’m comin’ to git you.”

 

You nodded, threw on a shirt and pants, and went outside to the outhouse to relieve yourself.

 

Walking back, you thought of just running away, but you knew he’d just chase you. There was no escape. Entering the cabin again, you were surprised to find him getting dressed.

 

“C’mere,” he said. You obediently walked to him, and he wrapped his arms around you.

 

“You feelin’ ashamed?”

 

You nodded in his chest.

 

“Don’t be. You got needs. S’okay if you fulfill them with the right person.”

 

“And that’s you?”

 

“I got needs too. We match.”

 

You looked up at him then. His eyes were clear like the morning sky, not like last night’s demon-possessed darkness.

 

“You got to stop running from me every time we meet. You know I can give you what you need.”

 

You leaned your forehead against his chest again, and he kissed the top of your head. He had a point. Your desires and his worked well together. You both got something out of your couplings.

 

“How?” you finally asked.

 

“How what?”

 

“How do you always know what I need?”

 

You felt him shrug. “I just do.”

 

You scoffed.

 

“Have I ever left you unsatisfied?” he asked, sounding slightly offended.

 

You were silent. No, he had always fulfilled you. You had no room to argue, not without being a liar, and you were most certainly not a liar.

 

He held you for a moment longer, then let go. He went to gather his things, giving you a moment to just watch him and think. You know in your exhaustion the first thing you had done was to go to him. You know that your body just moved on its own. You thought that had you been in your right mind, you would have run away from this dangerous outlaw.

 

Or maybe that was you running away from yourself. What were you really afraid of? He had shown you nothing but kindness and pleasure. He took care of you, made you feel fulfilled in a way no man had ever done, and had respected your boundaries when you truly drew a line. Because you knew that every time he had forced his way through, you hadn’t fought back. Not really. He’s seen you fight. He knows you would have resisted tooth and nail if you truly didn’t want something. But you knew, deep down, you wanted him to do all those debauched things to you, and you enjoyed it all.

 

Deep in thought, you hadn’t noticed that he had finished picking up and was ready to leave. He had been watching you for several minutes as the gears turned in your head, working out your emotions regarding him and this... situation between the two of you.

 

Stepping up to you once more, he cupped your chin to bring you out of your reverie.

 

“Next time I see you, don’t run.” He lovingly kissed your forehead and walked out the door.

 

You followed him to the door and watched as he got on his horse and rode away, presumably back to his gang. You realized that he had never asked you to come with him, to join his gang. You never would, of course. You wanted to live the freedom of a bounty hunter’s life, and that was non-negotiable.

 

Maybe he knew that. Maybe that’s why you and he had to be content with these random meetings and nothing more.

  
Were you afraid of wanting more? Or were you more afraid of _him_ wanting more? Because with the hold he had on you, you weren’t sure what you would say if he asked you to stay.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you guys enjoyed it, it’s what Arthur wanted to do in my head, so I let him (let’s be honest, I’d let Arthur do a lot of things to me *droooool*). Also I looked up 1890s clothing and endearments and dirty terms so it’s somewhat chronologically accurate; I had no idea the endearment “baby” was used as early as the 17th century, and zippers weren’t used commonly until the 1930s. So all my cowboys have button flys (which are sexy anyway, right?).


End file.
